Redemption
by Wespe
Summary: What happens when Azula is the one banished besides Zuko? Torn emotions and loyalties get tossed around as she embarks on the search for the Avatar.
1. The Beginning

**Hey everybody, this is my first fanfiction. I know it's kind off the left side of the things, but I would really appreciate reviews. Thanks.**

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><p>The day was like any other. The sun wasn't shining, the wind was cold, the air smelled of salt, and the decks were slippery with sea foam. And here I stand, watching, waiting, hoping, that one day I might escape all this, that I would never have to endure such lasting misery. That I could go home.<p>

It had been 3 long years since that fateful day in the sweltering heat of June. It is a moment I will forever regret. It was during the hottest part of the day. I was walking nimbly down the halls of the palace, fanning myself, not watching where I was going. I ran into a general who served my father's house, but who quickly became agitated and the tension between escalated from their. I jabbed and jibbed with my wit, at his cumbersome comments of "respect" and "honor". Both of our anger's flared like the temperature around us, until we verbally lashed out to one another. When I insulted him one too many times, he snapped. He threw down his glove to me and demanded satisfaction. I smirked at the prospect of killing the old fool and gladly accepted the challenge.

The next day, when it came time to duel, I stepped out into the Royal Courtyard with a swagger for my crowning moment triumph. But, the old general wasn't there, it was father. He had taken up the gauntlet, as I had found out later, when the general complained to him and decided to teach a lesson of his own. But, at that moment, I was caught off my guard. He assumed his position but not before I pleaded with him on the instance. To no avail, unfortunately. Up until this point, I had always been composed, but for once in my life I broke down in tears at the prospect of dueling my own father, my standard of perfection, my own Lord. He showed no hesitance. He thrust forward his fist and in one brilliant burst of fire he scarred my left eye forever.

I, Azula, prodigy and and heir-apparent to the throne, lost everything in two seconds. After the match I was banished from my father's house and his Kingdom, which I thought one day would be mine, and given the impossible task of finding the Avatar who had been missing for over 100 years. I was devastated. For a few months after, I couldn't speak to anyone, much less set to my task. It was like everything I had ever looked to was gone and I was branded a failure. That was three long years ago.

Since then my Uncle Iroh and I have reconnoitered the globe, searching for the figure who vanished almost a hundred years before. All of it had been in vain. We had gone from village to village, town to town, city to city, and every answer was the same: There is no Avatar. I am discouraged by our failures but even worse by the fact that it seems this person has fallen off the Earth. Oh, how I want to go home and be back in my father's good graces again and be with my brother. And then there was that: Zuko. I had always beleaguered him with taunts and jeers but he always stood his ground. Resolute and firm as a rock. Now, in retrospect, I wish I had been kinder to him. All those wasted hours, what a folly. And now, I stand before the arctic tundra, in a worn and battered ship, waiting for the tide to pull me into harbor, where I can search once more for the Avatar.

I look down at the gray waters below. So ardently tormented. I remember a story once, of my childhood long ago, where a man who had disobeyed his master and his voyage had been cursed. When all had seen lost, he jumped into the ocean and all was calm. Maybe then, that's when my own curse will end. When I surrender myself to the sea that seems to beckon me into it's icy grip.

I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. "Here, you'll need a warm coat." My Uncle holds up a large crimson coat for me.

"That's okay Uncle. I'm quite warm." I say in a somber voice.

He looks at me with those eyes that are filled with compassion and wisdom. "You shouldn't stay long out in the cold. You'll catch a fever."

"I know Uncle, I was going inside right now. How much longer until the tide rolls in?"

"At least another hour. You should go rest. We have a lot to do on shore."

"I will do that Uncle" I say politely as I can, "Thank you." We both bow and continue inside together.

But just as we were to the door, I caught from the corner of my eye something vivid. I turned about to see on the far bank a huge blue column of light jutting far into the sky. I rushed over the banister of the ship, amazed at what I was seeing. I was joined by my Uncle and soon the entire crew emerged from their quarters to gaze upon the spectacle. "Hand me glass!" I commanded. The telescope was handed up and I stared through it.

"That is no Arctic light." Uncle said.

"No, it isn't." I said not turning away from the glass and still staring at the light. "I believe it's a being produced on the ground. But what could it be?"

"Perhaps our visit won't be so boring as you thought."

"Maybe" was the only word I could think of.

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. I retract the telescope. "We can't wait for the tide. Everyone into the lifeboats, we're going ashore now." The crew set about their business at lightning speed. Out of my ear I hear the drum beating and soon the marines appear on deck, clad in armor and helmets. We hurriedly make our way into the boats, braving the brutal wind and weather, and make for shore. While the boat tosses and turns on the rough waves one could feel an air of anticipation amongst the crew. Like an anxiety. Hushed rumors I heard going through the ranks that the light was a bad omen and that certain death approached. I ignore them. I am far too excited to let them put me down. Perhaps this was the prospect I'd been looking for in three years.

The craft hits the beach, and the ramp descends, everyone scuttles out into the sod as if they were expecting to be struck down. We quickly advance in battle formation, to what we thought to be the nearest village in the distance. The biting arctic wind nipping at my nose the entire time.

We finally arrived the village was utterly abandoned and devoid of life. All that was in view was the windswept tundra and their humble woolen wigwams. Cautiously, we enter what appears to be the village center. I shout in a loud voice, announcing we wished everyone to assemble there. A moment passed, then another. No one stirred. Realizing that nobody was coming, I tell a soldier to torch one of their huts. He quickly ignites the dwelling. Soon a man, a woman, and a few children race from the hut, and are seized by the men on hand. Soon all the other villagers, also appeared, and were ordered into the center.

I saw the growing mass until I gauged it to be the entirety of them had been assembled, I stand upon a small box and announce, "We have witnessed a light coming for the vicinity of your village. Now, as to if you know anything about it, we want to know. If anyone has anything to give willing, your village will be spared. If not..." I pause, "We'll torch the rest." I cringe at that thought. Like they really fear their tents being burned, they'll just build new ones in a day. Oh well, I can see that a panicked look is coming over the crowd, so maybe it worked better than expect. But finally, out of the crowd steps a gawky looking male of about 14.

"We have something."

"Excellent..."


	2. Capture

This day isn't like any other. The sun was shinning brightly, the wind was temperate and refreshing, the air smelled of incense and perfume, and the decks gleamed brightly from a fresh polish given just hours before. And here I stand, triumphantly gazing, anticipating, knowing that in a few short hours I will be home at last, and my misery has finally come to a conclusion. For at long last, the Avatar is finally captured.

I carry myself tall today. I puff up my shoulders and stand erect, my sharpest dress uniform conforming to my body. I feel an excited anxiety, so much so that I can't stop balling up my hands and flexing my arms down. I bite my lower lip as our gallant warship, flying all our colours, crashes violently through the calm western sea. After awhile I hear the clanking of iron as footsteps ascend the rails from below on the starboard side of the watch area. Around the corridor, walking in military fashion, a marine dressed in uniform and wearing a skull mask approaches me and clicks his heels together in an official manner and gives a salute.

"We have deployed the fore-running ship to announce your capture of the Avatar to the blockade patrol."

"Good, tell the captain that all hands must be on deck when we pull into the Capital in the morning."

"Yes, my lady." He bows.

"Oh, and bring the prisoner on deck from his holding."

He gives the same reply, bows once more, and opens the door to the bridge. I look out into the clear horizon, trying my hardest to see a speck of land, but to no avail. I sigh a deep heave. I guess patience will do some good here, I tell myself. A few moments later the boy who was found in the iceberg emerges from the brig. His hands and feet are shackled with heavy iron chains and he is dressed in the attire of a fire nation civilian. His eyes no longer have the gleam of rebellion but a sad glaze. I smirk to myself. "Going to try to escape again?"

"No." he answers in a meek and dry voice.

I go over to him. Almost in a comforting gesture, I give him my condolences. "I'm sorry about your Bison."

"It's okay." he says. His voice still maintains a dry air. "I thought it could have worked."

I pause a moment and pander my hands on the railing, trying to find the right words to say as he looks down at the floor. I hesitate at saying anything, but eventually I muster enough gall to break the silence. "I'll try to make sure when we arrive in the fire nation, that you don't end up in a dark prison with wretched food, all alone."

"Yeah..." he groans out, "I'll enjoy a lit prison with okay food."

My anger flares up. "Be happy I'm doing anything for you at all! I could have left you to die out in the ocean for all I care, the only value you owe to me is my redemption. So be glad I have the influence to make sure you don't rot away forever in a dank hole!"

He goes silent. "In any case," I continue "It's not like this is the end. There's so much that needs to be done for this war to end."

"You could stop pillaging and killing people and go back where you came from." he retorts sharply.

I bite my lower lip, holding back the urge to set his carcass on fire. If being at sea for three years had taught me anything, it was patience. "You know so little about anything. The rest of the world was forming itself against us. They saw us as a threat. Our warships and armies grew more sophisticated every year, so they feared us. They feared our power would become too great. The Earth King had given my great-grandfather Sozin an ultimatum of war. We knew your predecessor would align himself with the Earth King, so we betrayed him."

He stares as I continue. "Yeah, that may come as a surprise to you. The Earth King wasn't very good at revealing his true motives for war to his allies. And those few who did know the original reason have long since perished or died off. Now it remains a bloody war of attrition and partisan warfare that won't end until we find a way to make them yield. We figure if we have the Avatar, we can settle his qualm once and for all."

"And the monks?" he asked, "They seemed like a 'threat' for sure."

I had no answer. I knew as well as he, war crimes had been committed on both sides, and that all parties were guilty. "I know...and I'm sorry. Many thousands have died on all sides and if we can capture Ba Sing Se, this bloody war will finally come to a end. And the world can have peace."

"Peace for the Fire Nation, but nobody else. You talk of peace like it's something you can buy with your soldiers' lives. But if you had looked at anything of the people you eradicated, you would know that peace must shared and learned for it to last."

"Perhaps so. Regardless, the crown of the Earth Kingdom hasn't given us reason for peace. No offers, no refutes. He sits on his throne inside his high walled city while his people starve around him."

"Have you tried?" he yells.

"The only envoys that return are a head less than when they started." I reply dryly.

He seems taken aback, disillusioned almost. "I never realized how ruthless this conflict has been."

"But maybe the Earth King will listen to the Avatar."

He looks up. "I don't know if I believe that anything can be done. But I will try."

"You need to understand Aang, your intentions and ours are one in the same. All we want is peace." I see his face lighten up some. I am smiling myself, but not for the same reason. I see I can still lie and manipulate as well as I once could. I feel guilty about duping a twelve year old, but if that's what it takes to realize my country's ambition, so be it. I am princess first, I obey my lord, regardless of my feelings on the matter.

I take a moment and breathe before talking again. "Now I ask again. Are you going to try to run? Or will you agree to help us and cast off those chains?"

He nods, now with a stark sincerity. I take the key out of my pocket and undo the locks. He chains fall and clatter on the iron deck as he holds his chaffed wrists. He doesn't run.

"Guards!" Two men appear from the ship with swords unsheathed.

"Take the Avatar to my room and give him an extra uniform. I'd hate to see him in those rags."

"Yes, of course." They then 'escort' the newly freed prisoner into the depths of the ship.

"Everything is going according to plan.."

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><p><strong>So that was Chapter 2. I apologize for not updating sooner, but...I've been enjoying spring break too much. Again, reviews are greatly appreciated. Ideas, critiques, etc. It's all good with me. <strong>


	3. The Night's Ordeal

The three years at sea had changed me in ways I could have never imagined, but there were somethings about myself that I know would never change. I was still a perfectionist. Everything needed to be flawless for it to succeed. But, it seemed, as many well crafted plans as I would lay, they all seem to go asunder. No matter how much time I put into it, no matter how hard I worked, no matter if everything went perfectly, there was always something that would rear its head and throw my plan into disarray. At first I thought it was a fluke, but as time went on and many of my stratagems were picked apart; I realized that they were never going to be good enough. It was one of the many things that weighed on me the most in these last three years. It was the realization that I wanted order in a world full of randomness. If I am thankful for anything, though, it's what my many failures have taught me to always be thinking on my toes. The best way to face ordeals is to not let them catch you by surprise and to calmly yet readily bend yourself to circumstance.

I sigh as I walk down the corridor of the ship pondering to myself as I proceed to my room at the far end on the left. I illuminate the hallway with a quick breath of air which breathes life into the flickering candles. It still hurts my mind to know that I am powerless to control most things. The tides, the wind, the sun, or people. In my many encounters I also found that intimidation doesn't always work either. Sometimes it requires coaxing, which requires the right blend of charm and charisma to make it work. Neither of which I possess in abundance. Regardless of what I couldn't control (or skills I didn't possess), the things I could control I did, and exercised my will for absolute perfection. That's why tomorrow morning I will be in flawless array for my father who sent word that he would meet on the dock when the tide allows the ship to come in. But it has been three long years. Will he restore his favor? Or will I just become a shunned outsider in his court? So many questions and anticipations that it was causing my stomach to cramp, or maybe it was the cook's dinner, one could hardly tell. But I was determined not to show my fears, I will be stout as a rock, I told myslef, as cold as ice. Father always did appreciate inner strength after all.

I open the door to see my dimly lit room. I snap my fingers and the torches on the wall come to life to reveal a surprise. On my mat, sprawled out in an awkward and uncouth manner, was the Avatar, dressed in his clothes. He snores peacefully while I gaze at him. Finally I put my foot down. "What the..!" I paused being mindful of the words I was about the say. I calm my voice, "What are you doing here." I say in a loud yet emotionally retrained voice.

He awakens from his slumber and rubs his eyes, responding almost as if he wasn't asleep at all but merely waiting. "I dunno." he said shirking his shoulder, "They told me to wait here until you arrived."

My eye twinges with anger. Either the guard is lazy or stupid, knowing their performance in the past, I would say it's a mixture of both. I'll have to deal with him later. "Well, you're not allowed to sleep here! Go next door!"

He continued like he didn't hear a single thing I said, "Have you ever stared up at the night sky to count the stars?"

"No! Now get out of my bed!"

"I don't know." he said looking down as his nails, "Seems like since I'm the Avatar and you're precious war hinges on me being here; I would say better treat me pretty nice."

"Get out now!"

"Make me." he said defiantly.

I grit my teeth and make the flames on the torches rocket into the ceiling. "Ah! Okay! Okay!" he said reeling back. "I'm going! I'm going!" He clumsily scampers out the door. "Sheesh! I just wanted to have a mat or something instead of sleeping on the cold deck."

I sigh. The things I do for needy people. "Fine! Get a mat! But be quick about it!"

Still with a look of horror on his face, he goes to the closet and tries to pull it open but fails. After several more tugs with no affect he stops and says, "It's not opening."

"Here, let me show you." I go over to the closet and open the door with ease. And stare into the closet chamber. "See! Easy as..." I didn't get to finish my sentence. Before I could think twice a gust of wind from behind blew me into closet floor. The door latched behind me. I stand to my feet, totally taken off guard. "Aang! Aang you little treacherous pig! Let me out! Let me out right now!"

"Actually" I hear him say, "I think I will sleep on your bed. Looks a lot more comfortable."

"You just wait till I get out of here! You're in for it then! You think fire bending is the worst I can do, you've gotta another thing coming!"

"I'd adopt a better attitude Azula. I believe your fancy dress wouldn't appreciate it."

I pound on the door. "You...wouldn't...dare!" I say between punches.

I hear the ruffle of silk coming from outside the door "Feels nice. Maybe I can use it as a blanket. Wanna scream anymore?"

I seethe with anger and bawl up my face into a look of utter rage. I remember my previous self-badgering about charm. So I compose myself in say in the nicest voice I can, "Aang, I'm willing to cooperate. What do you want? Money, jewels, maybe my birth-right to the throne?"

"Meh. Money is boring and jewels hurt my eyes and politics never really interested me."

I drop the fake sincerity. "Then what do you want you little troll!"

"Marco!"

I pause at the statement, caught a little off guard by the innocent childishness of it. "Polo." I reply shortly.

A few minutes pass in silence, then in desperation and to the point of pleading "Aang" I said "Don't mess it up. I need it!"

"Sure sure." said he, "I haven't even touched it."

"Good. Cause if you do, you're dead."

"I guess we all are in the long run of things."

I bat my eyes. Such profound words from a twelve year old who just two minutes ago was holding me hostage with my dress. "Yeah. I never thought of that."

"I always wondered why someone would choose to fight as a soldier." said he " To leave your family, your home, your life to march on campaign in the summer heat and winter snow. But, I guess if you come to the realization that death is eventuality it makes it that much easier to deal with."

I feel a knot form in my stomach. I had seen the parades of fresh recruits going off to fight. The crowds waved and cheered and they waved back, smiling. It was regular thing for me to the point where I didn't think much of it, but the boy's words suddenly put such a macabre revelation on the image, that I regret not partaking more heartily to wish the soldiers luck. A few moments of silence pass between us before I ask, "So why do you count the stars Aang?"

"When I was with my friends, we would have contests to see who could count the most stars. But I usually fell asleep before I got past one hundred. I guess that's just me though."

"So what did you and you're friends do for fun?"

"Lots of stuff. If there wasn't something to do, we would always invent way to keep ourselves occupied. I remember, right before I left the air temple, I was learning to play chess with some of the scholars."

"Chess? I have a chess set right here." I pull out an elaborate wooden table with many ornate hand-painted figures residing on the spaces. I never used it, but I had learned the game from members of court who played it religiously every day. "I can teach you if you like." I didn't know if it was the heat of the ship or my own bleeding heart, but I was truly sincere in my offer.

"Sure, I never got past learning what the, uh... What's the castle thingy?"

"The rook?"

"Yeah! The rook! I never learned anything past the pawns and the rook. You're not gonna try to kill me now when I open the door?"

"No." I said flatly.

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Pinky promise."

I stand with my pink erect in the air, "I do pinky promise."

"Now do it with sugar on top."

"Aang!"

"Alright! Alright! Geez, you need to calm down."

"Well its hot in here and there's no fresh air!"

I hear the latch on the door unbolt and the door slowly creak open. He has his hands covered over his bent body as if expecting to be struck by lightning as soon as the door opened. Instead, I walked out with the countenance of a princess and lay the board before him. "Ready to start?"

"Sure..."

We spent the next few hours playing the game. We chatted over this and that and whatever else. We laughed and joked. It was odd. I don't think there was anyone else I could have been this open with, not even my brother. It was like I had a friend for the first time. Someone I could talk honestly to. It was great to converse and the hours flew by until it was nearly two hours past midnight.

I yawned."Well, I think we should rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow and I don't want father to see me tired."

"You really want to please him, don't you?"

"Well, he's not just my father, he's my lord. I am not just his daughter, I am his servant. His approval or disapproval mean everything. Life or death. I just happened to rub him the wrong way..." I touch the scar on my eye.

"I see. I guess...I guess I wouldn't know."

"No. I doubt anyone else does. They go about their lives, but everything is chosen for me. What I can and can't say, how I can and can't behave, it feels so stressful sometimes, because you have the weight of the world on your back. Everyone looks to you for guidance. One mistake and you lose the affection of your people. It's a razor's edge to tread on."

"Well...I guess I'll be going to bed now too." He then hauls himself off the floor.

"Hey!"

He turns around, "What?"

"You forgot your mat!" I throw the mat at him.

"Oh...thanks."

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><p><strong>I apologize to anyone for breaking canon and using chess. Since nothing was ever revealed about Pai-Sho in the series, it would be presuming of me to try to fill in the gaps. On that note, I like incorporating elements of reality and sometimes myth into my stories. In any case, as fair warning, I will be diverging from the canon even more in the future. But not terribly. Just a heads-up to all you die hard Avatar fans. <strong>

**I would also like to thank my German readers which always means a lot. Danke. For now, at least: Tschuss.**


	4. On the Morning Tide

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the long delay in chapter updates. Life and all that. Exciting to get a new chapter right? Just don't get too excited. As my German teacher always says to me: Entspann Dich! Anyway, without further adieu, I give you my latest installment. **

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><p>Necessity dictates that I don't sleep long. At five in the morning, as always, the alert sounds on the intercoms of the ship; signaling for all hands to make ready for the morning parade that would be conducted at 5:25 as always. I yawn feverishly, my entire body shaking. I regret not paying attention and going to sleep earlier. I slump my head down and close my eyes, trying desperately to draw enough energy to make myself get up and get dressed. I breathe several hard breaths, fighting the drowsiness, but finally pull myself off my knees and slowly walk over to where I had hung my dress.<p>

I felt its exquisite silk rub on my palms. Only the finest for Father, after all. I slip it on, making sure not to crease its delicate fibers. When all the straps have been procured, I look at myself in the mirror. I look like a hybrid between a soldier and a flower, or at least, that's the best simile I could think of for it. The dress has all the bearing of what a military man (or woman) would wear, yet, it possessed about it a regal grandeur. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. Its flowing garments seemed tacky, and the corset seemed restricting. Yet, if it was what was "in", I guess why not? That's another thing I hate about myself. Even though I am independent, I am still a slave to fashion; even if I have a hard time admitting it to myself.

Though, when I attended the academy I always tried to show I was above that sort of petty trifle, but it still loomed over me everywhere I went.

There's a knock on my door. "May I come?" I hear a familiar voice say.

"Yes..." I say grudgingly, "Please!"

My elderly uncle steps through the bulkhead. "We'll be pulling into port soon."

"I know, Uncle. How could I forget?"

"I just hope you're ready to confront your father."

Not wishing to sound offensive or ungrateful I think of a obtuse answer, "I'll try my best, Uncle."

"If you say so." He bows and starts to leave.

"Wait, is the Avatar awake?"

"I have not checked his cell this morning."

"No use looking there, he's next door." My Uncle looks at me with a perplexed look. I suddenly realize the implications in what I just said. "Oh, don't give me that look, Uncle! I'm a little more responsible than that!"

"That's not what I was thinking. How do you know he hasn't made good an escape?"

"I believe our talk has convinced him beyond a reasonable doubt to the worthiness of our cause."

"Let's hope you're right. If the Avatar suspects anything, he'll try to flee."

"I'm well aware. That's why I'm trying to 'bond' to him. If he trusts me, he will be less apt to flee at the first sign of trouble."

"Just don't get your priorities out of order, my young niece. You are still a princess."

I pause a moment, then finish. "Thank you, Uncle, for the advice."

He withdraws from the room, shutting the door behind him. I let myself breathe as the comb's teeth slide through my hair. They violently pull the knots from my hair. Take no prisoners; that's my motto. If those little annoyances think they can hinder me, they've got another thing coming. I comb until I feel satisfied with the smoothness. I then add the perfume, a noxious mixture of fruit and death. It's almost unbearable, but as it was the only substance easily procured, it will have to do. I cough a few times as the heavy scent of false lilacs fills the air. I look in the mirror and do the finishing touches on my makeup. I stare at my self in the mirror. You look good enough. Not terribly pretty, but acceptable.

I hear another voice at the door. It is young and nasally. "Permission..." he paused to yawn "...to enter?"

"Permission granted." I answer back with a smile.  
>In enters the Avatar, wearing the clothes set for him yesterday. He is groggy and tired, with a look of 'Why I am awake?' on his face. "You wanted to see me?"<p>

"Yes, I did. Just wanted to make sure you were dressed properly. Would hate for you to make a bad first impression on Father."

"If you say so..."

I examine him over, looking for flaws. I spot one right off the bat. "Your collar is..."

"What?"

"Oh, just let me fix it." I go straight to the task at hand. I feel my perfectionist ego being satisfied with each pull and correction of his clothing. When I am satisfied, I move on until he looks spic and span. "There, now you look like a well dressed peasant."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so honored."

"You should. Otherwise you would just be a poorly dressed peasant."He looks at me with a face filled with apparent bitterness. "Oh lighten up, will you. I'm only kidding."

"Its not that, its just your insults are...biting."

I tried to change to the subject. "Don't try to be a hero with my father. He doesn't appreciate spontaneity. And you bow first."

He shrugs, "Okay."

I badger him on manners the entire time until the call to assembly sounds. The marines and crew gather on the main deck where we stand in formation, me facing the front. Our ship was passing the coastline of the Fire Nation, heading east towards the capital. Towards home. It was not long, though, until we spotted the craggy cliff that we knew marked the entrance into the harbor. I nudged Aang who stood beside me, "There it is. The entrance."

"That's...nice." he says, trying to give a compliment with his trademark grin. I know what he really meant was "Yeah? So?" But could I blame him? He'd never seen this new capital. It was only 75 years old.

Finally, like a jewel rising from the ocean, the capital hoves into view. Its buildings and towers look magnificent in the early sun. I keep staring out at my three-years ambition. I am afraid to move my head at all, for the fact that I don't want to let anyone see the tears in my eyes. As we revel in a sight many of the crew, as well as myself, have dreamed about for years, there comes a sudden explosion which makes us leap to the deck of the ship. I look up, half expecting to see that the ship's boiler has been blown away, but that was not so. I stare around, trying to figure out what had just happened. I get to my feet and wipe myself off. I go over to the communication pipe at the far end of the ship and yell into it. "Captain!"

"Yes! My Liege!" I hear his voice echo through the pipe.

"Check the engine room! I want to see if we've taken any damage!"

"At once!"

I hang the pipe's receiver on the end. A few moments pass in hushed anticipation as the bewildered crew resume their formation on the deck. Suddenly, a boy of about 8 races down from the stairs leading to the poop and stops in front of me. He is one of the many children apprenticed aboard the Fire-Nation navy, usually given odd jobs on a ship while learning the art of seamanship and navigating. He salutes as smartly as he can. "Sir, the captain would like to report that there is no damage!"

I sigh. "Very well, dismissed." He the runs aft to the forecastle and ascends the stairs to the quarter deck.

"What was that?" I ask myself.

"I have no idea" Aang chimes in.

"Strange occurrences..." Before I have time to finish my sentence, another ear-deafening bang rolls through the air. This time, though, I don't fall to the ground. I wait patiently as everyone recovers, yet again, from their shock.

"Aang. Go and get me the telescope from my room."

"Right away." said he.

He then twists the air in his palms into a ball and rides it up the ninety-degree face of the ship to the top where my quarters are. As he does, I look out into the harbor again, biting my lips. "I hope this isn't my reward for finding the Avatar..."


	5. Strange Occurrences

**Well friends, I finally stopped procrastinating long enough to finally write this chapter. I realize I am dragging this out a bit much, but I believe in having narrative that is clear and concise. But, any critism or ideas are still accepted.**

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><p>I stare out over the clear water across the harbor at the brightly colored shore on the far side, cautiously examining any sign of what had caused the two explosions. A few moments earlier I had ordered the crew to battle-stations. Not just for my sake, but theirs as well. For I believe if they had to stand at formation a moment longer they would collapse from anxiety. Aang stands beside me, his gangly frame twisted on the ships railing, looking casually off into the distance. I turn from my telescope and look at him with perplexity. Then I ask in a half serious tone "What are you looking at?"<p>

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Just the waves and the trees and the ocean."

"Well that certainly isn't nothing is it."

He shrugs, "I suppose not."

The engines rumble vibrates underneath. After months of being on a ship that's constantly moving, its easy to ignore the perpetual sound. But now that you become aware that something might be wrong, its hard not to notice it. In a few moments though, I will never have to fear that infernal machine ever again; or the ocean crashing against the ship; or the ceaseless smell of spray and salt; or thundering wind and hail. I would finally be home.

The coastline gradually became larger and larger as our gallant ship, fully ablaze with colours, steamed in the harbor. On shore a crowd of on-lookers cheer and wave as we past by. They yell out encouragements and greetings. And for once, I let the soldiers yell them back. I'm not in any kind of mood to be hated right now. It's a joyous time. A time worth celebrating. So I let them cheer and wave and shout. Why not? It's much their excitement as it is mine.

Finally, the moment of truth had arrived. There, only a few meters away, was the royal precession on the pier. Filled with noble lords and ladies of the realm, each with his own merit, trying to rise in position by being in the Fire Lord's good graces. Their decadent attire shined splendidly in the sun. Fanciful scarlet robes and dresses did adorn them. Over the caravan there were many boys who held large fixtures on poles to keep the sun off them. The nobles looked on with blank stares, hardly enthusiastic. They carried themselves with pomp and dignity but certainly didn't have the heart of the commoners. I raise my nose at them. What a shameful display of character.

But it was there I noticed out of the corner of my eye a strange site. Sitting on the pier to the farthest left, stood a strange ship that I had never seen before. It was a sailing craft, made of wood and rigged with canvas, but I had never seen a design like it before. The crew were foreign as well. They were pale skinned and shabby, wearing what appeared to be woolen pants and shirts radically different from any apparel know. They stared grimly at us, and I stared grimly back. Other ships eventually blocked them from view. How odd, though to find new foreigners. I made a mental note inquire about the origins and dealings. There's so much I need to catch up on...

The ship gradually came to a stop, and a loud trumpet sounds. The front latch of the ship descends as the ship is moored to the pier. On the pier, a herald stands erect and shouts in a booming voice, "Announcing, the return of her most Imperial Heir: Princess Azula!" The large crowd of people who had gathered around then let out a cheer that shook the earth underneath it. Never before had I heard such a cry of joy. It was then I felt the realization of what was taking place, the gravity of the event, and allow myself to cry one bitter tear of joy as I descend the stairs in as graceful a manner as I can carry myself.

And there, standing before me, is my father. His hard features half covered by shadows. I don't want to look at his eyes, but he is looking straight at me. I try to hide the cringing feeling in my stomach, that awful nausea. I approach him and regally bow before his feet. A slow moment of tense anxiety passes, and he places his hand on my head and says with a voice of affection "Rise, my princess, rise. For you return in honor." It was then a cry rings out that was louder than the first and I feel myself swooning in the heat of the early morning sun.

He keeps a coldness about him; a sternness. He doesn't want to seem weak, and I understand why. I graciously rise as he himself stands to his feet. "I am glad you have returned, my daughter."

"It makes me most joyous to be back father." I stress my sincerity with such prolific words.

"You have the Avatar on hand?"

"Yes, my lord." I answer. "He has agreed, to help us in our endeavors."

His face lightens. A faint smile appears across his lips. "Excellent" he says, " The Avatar will be a strategic tool, if we are ever to win this fight." He strokes his beard and ponders very deeply " We must take extra care to make sure he continues to fight for us. It is wise that I give him all kindness I can afford. He shall be a guest in my house. You may announce the arrival of our guest."

I bow graciously. "As you wish my lord."

Amidst the crowd, I climb upon the small platform that had been erected in the center. I hold myself above, until the rumble of the boisterous crowd recedes into a quiet whisper as all voices silence.

"Loyal subjects! For the last 100 years our nation has risen to heights unimaginable in the history of the world! We have created wonders that men have only dreamed of. We have made countless sacrifices in the wake of disaster. Overcome a thousands of challenges. Nothing has ever stood in our way!"

The crowd cheers briefly, I have built them into a frenzy. "It is _our_ citizens who have contributed the most, time and time again. You have given your sons and daughters on the holy altar of our nation, a humble sacrifice, that your nation may prosper! Make no mistake, there can be no greater glory than this. And it is because of your steadfast devotion that has made our empire strong. This day you shall long remember. For today, the sacrifices of countless people has finally paid off.

"For four generations, our armies have done battle with Earth king, and those petty despots who serve him. He has used every trick, every lie, every foul means to crush us and has brought shame upon his kingdom!" There is a roll of booing erupting from the crowd. "But his trickery has never extinguished the fire in our soldiers hearts. No earthly force can crush our spirit. For our honor, makes us resilient. And honor never dies"

"It has been the absence of the Avatar, that has caused his turmoil to occur. But no longer! The Avatar has returned!" A frenzy of joyful shouts gush forward as the sentiment and emotion and hope finally break forward like a tidal wave.

"He has agreed, to aid us in our cause, holy and noble in our righteous quest. He will write the wrongs of this world! He will deliver your salvation! Cheer you noble comrades! For the hour of glory is upon us!" I turn to the ship, and I raise my arm high above my head. "Hail! The Avatar"

Suddenly the crowd's cheers turn into one voice, one pulse; like a beating heart. They chant "Hail! Hail! Hail!" over and over with their arms erected forming one unbroken mass of hands.

The Avatar slowly descends the steps of the ship. His demeanor is humble, if not recessive, as he stares into the thousands of adoring spectators seeing their savior step into their ranks. He makes his way to the platform, with his glider by his side, and thousands of hands grabbing at his clothes. He tries to greet each person, and walks doggedly, smiling and shaking people's hands. He climbs the steps and stands beside me, and looks out into the mass of people. He intuitively takes to speaking.

He starts out humbly enough. "I am the Avatar. The emissary of peace. I am willing to do I can to bring peace. If it is what you want, let peace reign! Let us put aside the sword; in exchange for the hoe and till, let us abandon the border watch; and instead look within ourselves; let us have a new destines together. A destines in which men are free from the terror of war, and all of its evils." He lets his last words come up with much emphasis, "Let us have peace!"

He raises his arm and the crowd goes wild. The crowd and the speaker were one, the people had become our apart of us, body and soul. And for one brief moment the focus of the universe was directed at us. And as my father gazes on us from below, we held ourselves mightily from on high.


	6. Our Wonder Weapon

The air under the royal canopy is stifling. Its ornate red and white striped pattern does much to block the sun, yet offers little in the way of insulation. It is only bearable for me because I am sitting on the side closest to the sea; where the breeze easily rolls in. Inside this tent, which seemss to be an entire world within itself entirely apart from the festivities commencing outside, a huge assortment of advisers, military council, and other court magistrates sit crisscross from one another in a circle, chatting amongst themselves about what needs to be attended to. The tent is well furnished. On a platform at the far end, the Avatar and I sit on each side of my father, who sits on a simple wooden folding chair while we sit on lower ottomans. On the walls there are many shields and decorations adorning the sides, interlaced with elaborate emblems that have been stitched into the canopy. All in all, it is an impressive sight to say the least.

I fan myself with a silk fan imported from the Earth Kingdom. Its intricate patterns, stitched together with delicate silk fabric, make its air cool and refreshing. I peer over to Aang, who is looking quite composed, taking what looks to be a meditating position. His eyes are closed and he breathes deeply. Suddenly, my father gets up to point to a huge map of the fire nation that lays on a coffee table in the center in the room, to talk about some matter. I let my mind wander off on things as I fan myself. I try to keep the movements fast and precise; thereby making me look more sophisticated. I do this for awhile, then look back to Aang. He is no longer in his meditating position, but is staring at me. There is a deep red hue in his cheeks. At first I pay him no heed. I ignore him and attribute his flushed appearance to heat. But after a minute of his stare painfully agonizing me, I look back at him and silently mouth "What?"

He points down at his own shirt with frankness. I look down at where I am sitting on my stool and notice that my dress pleat has slipped from its holding and is now revealing a huge portion of my thigh. I gasp and frantically pull the dress to cover the offending area, now with my own cheeks turning a bright violet. I glare at Aang and see he is sporting a sheepish grin. I give him my death stare and his face slowly turns into a mask fright and horror. I nod my head as he looks at me in disbelief.

Father at last concludes his business, and asks that everyone be escorted out, including our esteemed guest. It is only I who am allowed to stay. All the magistrates file out silently, while Aang is taken aside by a few guards who now act as his "bodyguards". When the entire tent is empty, I stand before father in humble obedience and dignity, knowing it is in our own country's custom for a subject to be summoned and give a report after a task (given by the Fire Lord) has been completed. This practice, as I understand it, had evolved over many years to make sure corruption did not take root. But as it is now, I figure it to be little more than a long repetition of the "glory" I have brought to my country, a long and drawn-out ingratiation where in which I will be granted some kind of title, or given some land, or both. Soon this dull affair will commence and soon be over and I can retire.

"Azula, my daughter, we have much to discuss."

"Yes, Father."

"Your capture of the Avatar has put the tide of the war in our favor. Not only his capture, but you have managed to convince him of the righteousness of our cause. Something I cannot begin to stress the gravity of, for it seems as if you have pulled a miracle from thin air and turned this stalemate into a decisive campaign. For this; for your selfless act to your people, your country, and your Fire Lord, I restore your honor." I heave a heavy sigh of relief. There was no question in my mind that my honor would be brought to its rightful position. But when one is released from the yoke of dishonor, its a feeling of utter bliss.

He continues to talk, "I have sent ambassadors to the Earth King to negotiate a truce. With this new tool at our disposal they have agreed to mutual truce, wherein for the keeping of our territorial acquisitions in their land we may now openly trade with the Earth Kingdom."

"If it was your majesty's desires..."

"No, you misunderstand me. Peace is the last thing I desire. I am only using this time a breathing period to consolidate our position and to strengthen it. I will not make the mistake my grandfather made and rely solely on the Avatar as my 'wonder weapon'. The Avatar is, after all, a human. A human who one day might turn against us. That is why I must usurp his power to increase mine."

"If it does not offend you, Father, may I ask how you plan to accomplish this? The Avatar is the master of the elements and poses a great threat."

"Recent developments in foreign trade have allowed us to come across weapons that no one, not even the Avatar, has seen." He summons the guards, "Bring him in!" I turn to see the guards open the tent flaps for a tall, pale man. His eyes are blue, yet they are wider than any eyes I have yet seen. His facial features have a broader complexion and his hair is a hue of yellow I have never seen. "I would like to introduce to you Senor Mendoza; ambassador to our fair nation from the Land of the Nanban."

The man of his early twenties, bows gracefully and greets me in a foreign tongue, "Bom Dia". His smile seems to reflect nothing but well-meaning intentions. It bears about it such an air of sincerity and enthusiasm, that by his gestures alone he seems trusting and amicable. No doubt then why he is in the field of diplomacy.

"It's nice to make your acquaintance, Senor Mendoza."

When he speaks, his accent bears thick on his words and causes them to sound rather garbled, yet there remains a poetic air of sorts about his sortie of words. "The pleasure is all mine. Let me be the first to congratulate you on your triumph here in your own land. Peace is something my master and I both desire, for our mutual benefit. I, being his humble servant, and you being of royal blood, I give you my utmost in consideration considering all that has been ascertained between our two peoples."

"Senor Mendoza, your flatter me too much. I must ask you to refrain from further compliments at they might drive me to become too proud."

He bares his grin that seems to be his sole trademark and weapon in verbal intercourse, "As you wish, milady."

It is then Father takes to the conversation again, "Senor Mendoza arrived here a little after you departed on your quest. He comes from a land where the art of war, it seems, has come to a...unique science." I notice he hesitated in calling it a "superior" science. Pride is a hard thing to swallow, it seems.

"In return for these common silks and spices," he opens a chest on the far side of the tent with the aforementioned items, "Mendoza has provided us with these new weapons that are sure to turn the tide of the conquest in our favor."

From behind the chest, Father pulls out a contraption, the likes of which I have never seen. It is a metal tube mounted on a wooden stock that has been carved to fit around it. At the far end of the device, there is a hammer connected to a spring-activated lever jutting from the bottom of the wooden stock. On the hammer there is connected a piece of long rope that hangs a few inches off the side. It all seems a bit overwhelming, this new machine or whatever it is. Its design, its solid impression, was certainly tantalizing.

"What is it?"

"Our own soldiers have taken to calling it 'The Lead Dragon', yet Senor Mendoza says the men in his country refer to it as a 'Matchlock'".

Senor Mendoza delicately tries to explain, "In my country these are quite common. Most people own one, though it remains a potent force in trained hands."

"How does it work?"

Senor Mendoza bows to my father, "Fire Lord, if I may?"

"By all means." He hands the matchlock to him.

"One simply pours down two measures of 'black-powder' into this hole." he points to the top of the pipe. "Then, one takes a wad of paper and uses this scouring stick to ram a lead ball into the muzzle." He pulls out the wooden stick on the stock and demonstrates. "After that, one simply puts the remainder of the powder in this catch that ignites the fuse. Then cock this lever and blow on the slow match to get a sufficient fire for ignition. Then, you simply aim, then pull the trigger."

He pulls the trigger, causing a dull thud to sound as the lever hits the empty pan. "The ball is then shot out the barrel towards the target. It can break through the toughest steel and has proven capable, on some occasions, of piercing earthen mounds."

My father speaks with excitement, "This weapon will revolutionize warfare."

Senor Mendoza, perhaps seeing that he is no longer needed, tactfully bows to Father and said, "Your majesty, I wish not to offend you, but the day is hot and I am afraid I am still not used to such an arid climate. Would you excuse me so I may procure refreshment?"

"You may." He then casually strolls out the front of the tent into the festival beyond.

Father continues, "Even now, I equipped and trained my finest troops in this weapon's use; but think of the possibilities! With this weapon in the hands of every common infantry soldier, we can engage the enemy at a distance and be able to dominate the battlefield as never before."

I realize at once the means by which the Avatar is to be supplanted, though I am not convinced of the weapon's potential. However, if Father has confidence in it, then I do as well. If it can really do as Mendoza said it could, we hold a powerful tool for change. As I gaze at this new weapon of destruction, I realize that nothing will ever be the same.

"What will happen to the Avatar the day he is no longer needed?" I ask with a forlorn hope in my voice.

He stares deeply for a few minutes. "He will join us or perish..."

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><p><strong>So, traders of a foreign land introducing guns? I like the idea. I ask the forgivance of any Japanese reader for the parralels I'm drawing between this canon and actual Sengoku Jidai Period. Especially using the word "Nanban".<strong>


	7. Training

I grip his firm muscles. Strong, but not well toned. Signs of strength, but certainly not adonic in quality. "Keep your arms like this." I twist his arms into a defensive stance, both elbows slightly up in front of the body. "Remember, while fire in its most delicate form is menacing, being able to block it is just as important. To ensure victory, be sure of your own abilities first."

"I understand." He takes a breath and flexes his tensioned ribs, his left breast pulsating with the rhythm of his heart.

I step before him, trying to focus his attention upon me. "Now, be clear of conscience. Fire is your energy, given form. It is a drive. And therefore, it should be a direct embodiment of your soul, but once it is released, there is no turning back. It will fly and hit its target. It is necessary for you have a degree of self-righteousness in your actions."

He nods his head. The wind picks up and ruffles the trees to our left that grow to the side of the courtyard.

"Equally important is your environment. This wind, for example, is a natural enhancer for fire. It feeds it, gives it life, renews its strength, but it also causes disturbances at the same time. Fire and air, when combined, are an unpredictable force. The fire can be led astray from it's intended destiny and cause great damage; maiming, killing, or otherwise impairing innocent bystanders. On the other hand, if implemented correctly, it gives it power beyond its normal ability. Consider these thing when bending."

"If it is as dangerous as you say, then why use it?"

I sigh, "Air is the element of freedom, and fire the element of power, when the two are combined, they create liberation."

"Aren't freedom and liberation the same?"

"No, freedom is a state of being, while liberating is the task of providing freedom. Look at blacksmiths, they use the raw energy of fire and the enchantment of air to heat unrefined metal to higher degrees than naturally possible by burning it alone, and refine the metal. They shape it, mold it, craft it, and make it into something unique and useful. See?"

"I think so."

"In time, you will better understand these things. But let us get to the task at hand. I want you want muster all your energy, and I want you strike that wall." I point to a plaster wall on the far end that houses a small concealment for the veranda on the other side.

"Okay, sure."

"Remember to breathe."

He breathes in, and exhales in a way that sounds much like a sigh. I watch as he mentally focuses himself, sets it, and attacks. He thrusts his fist forward and a small burst of translucent light appears and quickly disappears.

He dislocates his position and looks down in disappointment. He looks to me, his eyes bearing shame. I simply smile and rearrange his limbs into the stance, saying in the most sympathetic way, "Just try again."

"Alright." He inhales again. This time a look of rage appears on his face. He violently strikes his fist forward. The flame expands in a rising circle of energy and is then is torn asunder, causing a violent explosion that shakes the palace grounds like a thunder clap. He growls in frustration, gripping his hands below his waist and staring at them vengefully.

I smirk to myself in amusement. He was trying so hard. "Aang, just calm down."

"I'm trying! All this breathing nonsense is getting me nowhere!" He growls again.

"Here, once more." I usher him back into his stance. His face now a reluctant stare of disappointment and despair. Once again, I tell him to breathe, and he does as commanded. This time, I stay behind him, my subtle hands gripping his tense shoulders. He relaxes his stance some. "Now, let the blood flow." He bends his knees slightly and I allow my thumbs to gently caress the blue strip leading down his back. "Now, do you feel the energy?" He shivers and acknowledges the question with a groan. "Now let it go!" His fist flies forward and a bright beam of swirling fire energy twists through the air as smoothly as a gentle breeze. The spiral descends and in a bombastic manner combusts, causing a violent explosion that sends particles of dust and debris flying in all direction.

As the vapor clears, the shirtless Aang is up from his stance with a great deal of satisfaction. He is shaking from the experience, hot sweat coursing down his back past my hands. The pulsing in his veins becomes unbearably fast."That...was...amazing..." he says, out of breath.

"I think you understand the concept, so tomorrow we'll begin on refining the technique. We can't have you blowing holes in all the walls after all."

He looks over at the rather apparent breach that he opened. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be, what's important is that from here on, it becomes instinctive."

"Instinctive...right." he says, flashing his sheepish grin.

I begin walking away from the new pupil, when he calls. "Azula!"

"Yes..."

"I'm...I'm really glad you're my instructor. I don't think I would want any other."

"Well, I am perfect." he rolls his eyes and I giggle, "I guess I'm glad you're my student.."

The young airbender's cheeks turn a bright velvet, as do mine. An awkward moment of silence descends upon us until Aang decides to speak. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but will you meet here tonight?"

I am caught off-guard by his strange advance, "Sure..."

"Really! Cool, I'll see you at midnight then." He runs off towards the far end and down the hallway where his bedroom is.

I stare after him, perplexed as to the nature of this invitation, but it doesn't matter. If Aang has something to show, let him show it. I feel a tang of resentment at that statement. You know why you're going. I suppose I do, but could I ever let myself accept it?

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><p><strong>Okay, sorry for the long wait. PLEASE review. Any thoughts. Doesn't matter. I need people to review. Sorry, I know the subscriptions say otherwise, but advice, thoughts, anything would be useful. THANKS.<strong>


	8. Shine On

All is quiet within the palace. The entire facade of windows is all black with night and not a single person stirs, save for me, and my one fluttering candle that stays alight near my bed. I pull my hair over my shoulder as I gently comb it, while lazily laying on the window sill and listening to the gentle whisper of the evening wind. Overhead, the near-full moon radiates with a sublime countenance. Each crack and crevasse on its craggy surface, combined with its illuminating specter of white, give it an almost enchanted look.

I smile to myself, reflecting upon the beauty, and gently put the comb into the delicate pouch inside my dresser drawer where it usually resides. I shiver as the fresh air brazenly whisks past my back. I don my previously-discarded undergarments and then my evening cloak. I always thought it out of the ordinary to sit on the window sill to dry after bathing, but then again, I am not the ordinary person. I'm a princess of the fire nation. I am royalty, a blue blood, an aristocrat, a noble, and a demi-soverign, all in one. I rule from on high, so I am above people's opinions. At least, most people's.

There is still Aang, the ever present actuality that seems to be tied to me, interwoven by fate or chance. We are almost acute opposites. He is fun, outgoing, charismatic, self-confident, and chivalrous, whereas I am introverted, prim, uptight, arrogant, and at times, ruthless. And yet, for the 3 weeks I have known him and the 2 weeks he has been here, there has been a force present, a kind of attraction. Not in any romantic sense, mind you, but something is there; an affection. I genuinely care about his best interests at heart, and I am betraying myself in doing it. I breathe a sigh of regret. For all of my seeking detachment, am I really being out-charmed by a 12 year old boy? Or is it a game he's playing, to see if he can toy with me? It all seems quite absurd, yet vaguely plausible.

Suddenly, a strong blast of wind bellows through the window. It causes the candle to tip over and extinguish, leaving the entire room black as the remaining air whistles through the night. I curse as I go and close the window and shutter the curtains. I can't see a single thing in the pitch-darkness that now covers the room. I grope the floor, trying to feel the dislocated fixture. At last, I find it and prop it up, relighting the candle and filling the room with illumination. I pull out my chair and sit in front of the mirror, gazing at myself as I tie back my hair in a ponytail. As I tie the cord, then straighten my bangs, a strange shadow starts descending in gradual spurts. I look over to see if the candle is flickering; it's not. I look back into the mirror as a frightening visage appears. My face seems to rot before me, my cheeks disappear and become nonexistent. Dark, saggy wrinkles appear all around, and my eyes are hollow and pale, outlining a grim cast of my skull. Just as quickly as it appears, it's gone. "Most strange..." I trail in a voice quite unconcerned, when in fact my hands are trembling.

"Hey, Azula!" I scream in terror. My whole body is now in convulsing in frightful tremors as I gaze up to see the high-pitched intruder. "Wow...sorry."

"What do you want, Ty-Lee?" I ask, mildly irritated.

"Just wanted to see what you were doing is all. But, if you're busy, I'll go." answers the bubbly teenage girl.

I roll my eyes, "How did you get past the guards?"

"How do you think?" There is a trail of remorselessness in the way she says this.

"Hopefully, you didn't kill one this time."

"I told you that was an accident."

"Yeah, I know."

"Oh! Are you getting ready to go to a party?"

"No, just a rendezvous of sorts."

"With the Avatar?" I nod, "Oh my gosh! Azula and Aang sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"It's not like that!"

"Sure it isn't, Azula."

"I'm not attracted to him!"

"No, I totally believe you. I'm just gonna go and leave you two to your date. Bye!"

She shuts the door behind her, and moments later I see her through my window, jumping precariously from rooftop to rooftop as she disappears into the night.

"I'm not...", or at least I hope. Am I losing my mind? The sheer audacity that I would be thinking this! It makes me twinge on the inside, and I suddenly feel light-headed. I creep onto my bed and silently slide the pillow over my head, trying to alleviate myself by lying down. I remember his firm muscles and how I grasped them, then imagine them wrapping around my slender shoulders. I shudder again. This can't be natural, this can't be me thinking this.

I look over to the clock whose hands now read ten-thirteen. I sigh a reluctant groan and heave myself up, knowing I will have to confront him and his eyes that seem to see right through me. Oh well, it might not last long. He might want to show me a trick or some kind of bending move he learned. I'm sure it is nothing serious.

I carefully close the door, shutting it softly as not to alarm anyone of my presence. I tip-toe gently down the hall-way, and descend the stairs that lead out to the other end of the palace. I walk through the dimly lit hallways. It's hard to see anything, though really, there is nothing to see. The halls are empty, and all I have to do is make my way to the courtyard on the other side of the building. I had decided not wear shoes, so my bare feet trail cautiously on the cold marble floors. It sends shivers up my spine as the frigid ice of its rock temperament slides against my heels.

I finally reach the wooden door that leads to the courtyard. I slowly open it and close it behind me. The garden is filled with moonlight, sparkling amazingly, as if it is enchanted. All the flora is magnificently radiant and I feel breathless at the sight. He stands there, gazing at one of the bigger flowers on the far end. I approach him and tap him on the shoulder. "Aang?"

"Here, let me show you something."

"Okay."

"Close your eyes." I do. "Promise not to open them?"

"I promise."

A tense moment of nothingness goes by as I keep my hands over my shut eyes. Finally, after an unbearably long minute, he says, "Okay, you can look."

I open my eyes to see Aang perched upon the fountain in the middle of the garden. But all the flowers are a different colour, each perfectly bloomed and ornate. "This...this is incredible!"

"Yeah, I kind of learned that I could change their colours just by bending the air inside of them. Pretty cool, huh?"

"It's...amazing".

He effortlessly propels himself off the fountain and lands directly in front of me, his face only separated from mine by mere inches. "You know what else is amazing? You."

I can't keep myself from blushing, "Aang, I...I don't know what to say."

"I mean, you're a really unique person. And...I really like you."

I feel my heart sink and all the butterflies in the world well up inside my stomach. My heart starts beating faster and I suddenly feel very awkward. "Aang, what do you mean?"

"I mean...I mean..." He suddenly pulls me in so deep our lips touch. I'm swooning as our tongues vie for dominance and he savors my cherry lipstick. I tense at first, but I eventually let go and savor it for the few precious hours that it lasts, or so it seems. The warm passion of our embrace overcomes any sentiment I have hidden beneath me. But I realize as I stare into the night, that I could pull away at any moment, but I choose not to. There is something magical about the moment, something akin to a talisman, that keeps me there, deep in his arms.

After what seemed like ages, we part and he stares at me, his cheeks as violet as mine. He looks awkward and puts his arm behind his head. "Sorry..."

"No," I said brushing it off, "It's alright."

He stares another moment and turns away as if leaving. I desperately grab him by his elbow, "No don't go..."


	9. One Morning

The morning light gently shimmers through my window and into my humble cell on the second story. A songbird twitters softly as it grazes its morning flight from the tree limb outside. I softly snuggle against the embracing arms that are wrapped around my waist. I'm half awake as he nudges against my thigh as we bundle together under the disarranged satin sheets, basking in the warmth of one another.

I gracefully move my thumb over his bare head, tracing it in a circle at the top. His eyelids hesitantly open and we gaze into each others' stares for what seems like hours. "Good morning," I say, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Good Morning," he groans, half asleep.

"Did you enjoy last night?"

"Yeah...Did you?"

"Yeah." We embrace each other in a kiss as we wrap our arms around each other, his thin lips smoothly coursing against mine.

Suddenly an abrupt presence flies through the window. "Hey, Azula. How are you...Oh."

I jerk forward, holding the covers as not to expose myself. "It's not what it seems!"

"Sure, sure." Ty Lee says, grinning. "Just wondering how this all happened."

"None of your business!" I shout, getting angry.

"Fine, I'll leave you two love birds alone. But it's almost seven, you're going to be needed soon."

"Get out of here."

"Byeee!" she says as she beams a huge grin and nimbly jumps through the window, onto the balcony, and over the rooftops.

I sigh as Aang pulls himself beside me, "We really should get going." he said.

"I know," letting the obvious disappointment become apparent in my tone.

He rolls out of bed, hopping to his feet, exposing his bare body. He clears his throat, "Azula..." he says with an embarrassed moan.

"Oh yeah...sorry." I say, giggling a bit. I turn away as he assumes his underwear that was torn asunder the night previous.

"You know, I think today is gonna be a good day."

"What makes you say that?"

"Don't know. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but it seems like a good day." I yawn and stretch my arms. It's then we both hear steps coming down the hallway. We glance a look at each other, and we immediately convey our two thoughts.

"Quick, hide in the closet!" I mouth as I point to it. He tiptoes over to the closet and quietly shuts the door. I bundle up in the covers on my bed, pretending to be asleep.

There's a soft knock on the door. I hear a familiar voice: "Princess, are you awake?"

"Yes, Senor Mendoza." I answer, "I am, but I'm not decent."

"Ah, then I'll let you get dressed." I walk over to my closet and pull back the doors, revealing the half-naked Aang, trying to nudge himself between some shirts. I hear Mendoza's voice stifled behind the door, "It's funny, it's been almost three years since I met you that day. Time does seem to get away from us all, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does."I answer, as my arms go for my assorted clothes, making my way around Aang. He sees this a few times and then becomes bolder. He goes in and grabs me into a fierce series of kisses. I am repulsed at first, but soon I am swooning on my feet, accepting it with a degree of playfulness. He and I osculate in short sporadic spurts, giving our bodies over to our lust only to be disrupted in our carnality as I pull away to answer Mendoza's inquiries.

"By the way, have you seen your friend? I went to his room to wake him but he was not there."

I pull away, stopping Aang with my hand long enough to slip on my panties and don my bra. "No, I said, I haven't."

"Well, I'm sure he is just exploring as boys that age do. I'm sure it's nothing serious." In the three years I have known Mendoza, his accent is still as strong and pitched as the day I met him. Though it annoys me to no end, I would be sort of sad if he did reduce it. I would have one less thing to laugh at. "Have you tried the dinning room? He might be there."

"Yes, perhaps you are right. I will check there. Good day to you."

"To you as well." I hear his footsteps fade as he walks down the hall and takes the stairs to the main foyer.

Aang is already perching his arms around my slender frame. "When are you going to tell your brother about us?"

"When the time is right." I say as move my arms around his back. Our lips touch for one last tender embrace before we clothe ourselves again.

We go about the task at hand. I put on my normal attire while Aang tries to sort out his disheveled clothing articles strewn about the floor from last night's affair. I watch as he helplessly tries to get his legs through the length of his trousers via my mirror while I put on my makeup. When he slips and falls, I laugh. "Need any help?"

"Nah, I got this." He tries again with the same consequence. "Damn trousers. How do you people wear these things?"

"How should I know? I'm a girl."

"Oh, yeah..." He pauses to think, stopping momentarily on his endeavor. "So, how did your father's annual memorial service go?'

"It was the same as normal. We performed the ritual and, well, all laid flowers at his tomb and burned incense."

"Sounds like a party."

"Zuko always makes sure to have everything perfect."

"I would imagine, after his unexpected suicide right before the comet arrived."

"Strange...I never knew father was so tormented."

"He didn't really seem it, did he?"

"No, but sometimes, people hide their emotions so well that they forget who they are. And when they find them again, it becomes too much to bear."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Everything seems alright since Zuko came back from the Earth Kingdom. He gave back the colonies and handed over concessions; including hostages. Anything for peace. His assignment out in that god-forsaken desert has changed him, though. Made him wiser."

"Your brother is a great man."

I sigh, "I know." By now he is fully dressed and is sitting behind me, nibbling on my tender ear as we both look into the mirror at each other.

He whispers softly in my ear, "But you know what? He has the greatest sister in the world." he lets the words trail as he caresses my neck with his tongue until he laps against the base of my shoulder.

"You're really sweet, but your collar is crooked,"

He smirks, "Yeah, that's Azula. Anal as always."

"Come off it," I breathe out as we both start breaking into laughter.

"Admit it! You are like this on everything!"

"Am not!"

"What about the other day when you hit me for no good reason?"

"You were peeping!"

"So?" he says, flashing his now-trademark sheepish smile. I give him that look, "the stare", as I call it. He shrinks away. "So, any plans for today?"

"No, but I was thinking of going to the market to go shopping? Wanna come with me?"

He looks down, "Well..." I give him the look again, "Sure..."


	10. A Special Trip

**Okay. After many many months of not updating, I have finally gotten around to it. To tell the truth, I had kind of left this in the side for a while to pursue other ideas. However, I was struck with a creative inspiration this weekend to continue it, and so have began again. I will not promise regular updates, but much more frequent than previously. Thanks for your patience and enjoy. :)**

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><p>It was a nearly mid-day when the two decided to venture out into the city. The weather was not overly hot during those mid day hours, nor was it exceedingly cold. It was a mild, breezy summer day. The birds whistled in the shade of the olive trees as a cool breeze lingered over the ancient valley where the Fire-Nation capital lay.<p>

Azula and Aang strolled leisurely together, step in step, through the streets of the fire nation capital. They talked about this thing and the other, who was in and who was out, old memories and newly made ones. In all the conversation turned more into a mindless prattle in which both parties attentively listened to subjects, but never dwelt on them for too long. As they continued on, they walked past what had once been ornate temples and furnished city paths of the old city.

Much had changed in the ancient city since Zuko had inherited the throne three years previously, upon their father's death. For one, her brother had inherited a desire for all things western via their connection to this "foreign realm": Senor Mendoza. His relentless efforts to "modernize" his country, as he put it, completely changed the layout of the high-towered bastion from a organized, if not preposterously rigorous fortress, into a modernistic and thriving metropolis.

The natives, who had lived there for most of their lives, acting as servants and tradesmen to appeal to the imperial court, were soon replaced by mass-production factories and shops that catered not only for the extravagant taste of the Royals, but to the common people who were always flocking to the capital in ever growing numbers to make their way in life, expanding its size immensely.

All of this, surprisingly did not cause too much of a social upheaval in the political landscape of things. The rapid speed in which western technology had crept into the fabric of society had so completely transformed it, that it now looked entirely different than it once did. And the new generation, seeking to define itself from the generations past, were extremely quick to embrace these fresh ways.

With the coming of these foreigners and their technology, also came their fashion. Stores no longer sold the traditional dress of the lords and peasants, which were based on thousands of years of tradition and ceremony. Those were quickly replaced by the latest fashions imported from the Nanban's homeland. Ornate dress was replaced by plain trousers and shirts and kimonos were replaced by dresses and skirts. Thus, it was in no short time, that the city not only looked western in architecture and style; the people did as well.

This change in dress also applied to the new couple. Azula was content on wearing a red halter dress that extended just above her knees, and leaving a great part of her legs completely bare (something that, three years earlier, would have been unheard of). Aang, in keeping with the fashion of the time; wore a loose cotton shirt that allowed him a lot of air in the hot summer sun, and a pair of plain trousers in the new style, to keep in trend with the fad.

Indeed, the very guards who had three years earlier patrolled the streets in plates of red armor were entirely foreign in appearance. Their elaborate and metal suits were replaced by manufactured uniforms of crimson cotton; where once helmets graced their heads, there were tall funneled hats in the Nanban style; and not a sword was to be seen among them, except the ones carried by officers, and these also were now curved like sabers that Nanban officers wore. As much as the traditionalist wished it, the glistening steel of the musket and bayonet was more than satisfactory to achieve peace.

All of this was noted with the usual frankness by the pair of lovers who had become quite use to the sight of the transformation. Aang, always the mind of change, saw the adoption of these as a way of embracing the future and moving into a new era of tranquility and prosperity.

He wouldn't have been too wrong. Under Zuko, he had extended his power of his nation over the entire world his western-styled politics. By using cunning and diplomatic resources instead of open war to exercise his will, he had managed to do what his predecessors couldn't have dreamed of in over 100 years of constant war. He centralized all power of the four realms in his capital, with each Kingdom paying tribute to him. In addition, he had required a host of retainers and hostages from the foreign lands to stay forever bound to the capital, to make sure the prospect of war never occurred again.

Thus, was the fire nation's imperial ambition realized in the world, in a new era of harmony, that seemed to be beneficial to all. As the philosophers of the day pointed out, what did good for one, did good for all. This was a notion readily accepted, whether on the end of the bayonet or not.

Inasmuch as it was concerned, it did very little to upset the royal grace of the pair, one the duchess of their newly formed empire, and the other the transcendent delegate to the entire world. This union seemed suitably prompt, for now the best interest of one was linked to the other. There was no more need for cooperation when the political power of one could oblige the spiritual enlightenment of the other.

This alliance began to become manifest in a number of fears and rumors running around the capital, but none which were openly dissenting. This attention, however, did little to quell the vigor with which the two pursued their everyday lives, intermingled with commoner and noble alike.

While they were not officially "together," as it were, it was apparent to anyone who had eyes that it was more than met the eye. Their romance became the talk of the entire city, becoming a model of prestigious living and faithfulness, even if the two themselves didn't realize it.

For the present, they were satisfied to browse through the markets of the fire nation capital, to see all the fine commodities and merchandise the modernistic city had to offer. It was one of many of the pleasures their lives they enjoyed, being entirely removed from the political affairs that regularly dictated her brother's affairs. On this day, however, one fashionable and very large and prominent clothing store that caught their eye and had enticed them to enter its wide, but open-air doors.

They stepped inside with their normal candidness, trying not to draw any more attention than was needed. However, as expected, the second they passed over the threshold of the doors and into the brilliantly lite store, they were instantly recognized by the clerk sitting behind the desk in front, who hastily directed three young, male attendants to care for them.

Azula groaned as she saw them coming, lifting her, and rolling her eyes to the sky in a vain hope that they might notice and leave them be. Aang grabbed her hand and gave her a reassuring wink from the corner of his eye. Azula smiled to herself as she saw the smirk form on his thin lips. She knew she had taught him well.

The three attendants presented themselves to them. They walked astride their rigid postures underneath their blue cloaks, which were the distinctive clothing of their station and gave nods and boys in such a stiff manner that it looked like they were trying to put on the airs of soldiers. All it did, however, was make them look terribly awkward if not embarrassingly clumsy.

When they halted, the three bowed simultaneously. They bowed so low that it looked like they were trying to kiss the floor. Azula put her fan over her mouth and gave a stiffened giggle as she saw the hilarious spectacle of their sincere, but egregiously wrong, faux pas in an vain attempt to seem genteel. She noted, with her usual humor, that not even the palace servants treated her with so much obnoxiously attentive respect.

Aang put on the same bearing as the dissembled host of tailors. He cast his nose up high into the air while leading on his toes to appear taller. He closed his eyes and it wasn't apparent, even to Azula, that wasn't looking at the host as they bowed to the ground.

He let them bow for a long moment before he cleared his throat and began. "Gentleman" he said in the most posh and accentuated voice he could muster, "I'd like to request an article of clothing, upon which receiving; I would like to wear."

The first of three, the one on the far left, was the first to speak. "What do you wish, and we shall make it."

Aang looked up, as if pondering his fancy, and then gave them an apathetic look, one a superior gives to their inferior. "I'd like a 50 pairs of pants; each made of the finest silk, casual style, formal divisions, imbued in a pleasing color of blue-black, polka-dotted, pressed, iron, and folded."

The outrageous, if not contradictory demand, did not seem to bewilder the three servant-tailors. They merely bowed, and each uttered a resounding "Hai!" After which, they did an about-right and hurriedly scurried into the "Customs Room" that lay in the back of the store.

As soon as they were out of ear range, the two of them burst into fits of laughter.

"Do you really think they'll do it?" Aang asked trying to catch his breath.

"Oh no doubt," Azula said, equally incapacitated, "With looks as serious as theirs, I would have thought they were constipated!"

This sent the duo into another fit of laughter which they tried to stiffen but failed in doing until the necessity of air became too great of either of them. It was in that momentary silence that they realized that they were now free to explore the store, alone and safe from any unnecessary intrusions.

At first opportunity, Aang made a quick motion toward the door. "We should probably leave. They'll be back, no doubt, and be expecting us to pay."

But Azula softly chided him, letting her girlish enthusiasm overcome her, "Come on, let's go try on shoes."

"By 'us' you mean 'you'." Aang commented snidely.

"Of course," she said winking. "After all, I'm your better half."

Aang rolled his eyes and groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Come on." she said dragging him.

It was then that they both descended into the endless oblivion the store aisles. They went past rack after rack of tailored clothing for special occasions and every type of clothing and accessory under the sun. They went behind corners, and around bends until they found themselves in the isolated part of the store where the women's shoes were.

Azula squealed in one of the rare moments she ever showed weakness. "Oh Aang! Which ones should I try on?" Before he could open his mouth to answer, she had done so for him, "I guess I'll try them all!"Shoes, after all, were her weakness.

Azula systematically set about trying of a plethora of different shoes from the selves. She tried on sandals and flip-flops, high-heels and flats, ordinary and extravagant; she saw them all, and whatever she saw; she tried. All this she did with a great deal of care, tediously valuing every moment of the experience while Aang sat on a nearby bench, drifting in a stare of apathy and anxiousness.

All of this Azula had ruthlessly calculated before hand. She knew what he didn't like, which is why she chose this store especially. She noted the pain expressions he made, those looks of agonizing boredom on his face. She took great pleasure in seeing him suffer; not just suffering, suffering for her, for her whim. She knew he would do anything for her, whether he wanted to or not, and that was the most satisfying reward of all. However, she also knew that men were impatient, and that to keep them, you had to give them just enough to keep coming back.

She smiled slyly to herself. "Aang" she called innocently, rocking in her seat. "Why don't you help put on this pair? I know it fits me, but they just don't seem to want to slip on."

Aang shrugged and got up and proceeded over to her. He took the shoe and stared at her a brief moment, unsure of what to do. "Sit down" she told him a soft but commanding voice, "And put the shoe on my foot." Aang got on his knees with the shoe in his hand. She put her foot out in front of his face, her delicate toes plainly visible from underneath her stockings. "Go on." she said.

Aang didn't give a second thought and started putting on the shoe. He stared at the laces winding around her heel and tried desperately to get it on, shoving his entire strength in it. After several unsuccessful tries, he gave up and lifted his head to tell her, only to find that underneath her skirt, Azula wore no type of underwear.

His face flushed with red as he recoiled like a lightning bolt and Azula went into another burst of laughter. "That's not funny!" he said with more than a hint of indignity.

"Oh?" she asked caustically and produced the missing pair of panties from her pocket. She took the two ends by her index fingers and stretched them. "Don't you want these?" she asked seductively.

The blushed Aang gulped, his throat dry and his palms sweaty, and answered in a hallow, cracking "Yes".

"Well..." she said savoring his helpless obedience, "Come and get them..."

Aang stuttered, "I really don't think your brother would approve, especially if we're caught."

"My brother doesn't approve of a lot of things." she whispered.

They both leaned into each other's embrace and were soon collapsed atop one another on the floor.


	11. A Sun Rise

**Hey everyone. Sorry for the long delay in an update. Sometimes life requires us to do some introspection and think about things. In any case, I have it up now. Don't forget to review. Enjoy. ^_^**

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><p>The day started normally I suppose; a warm southerly breeze casting up from the rocky face of the cliffs and stiffing sun peaking over the horizon to illuminate the day. The crimson banners hanging from the palace balconies shined as the royal guard assembled for role-call in the square below.<p>

The captain, a stout man, barked out an order and the soldiers smartly snapped their weapons to their places on their shoulders; their bayonets shimmering. Another order and they turned left and began to march off.

In the distance, the sound of the everyday world could be heard: the pounding of iron, the clatter of feet on cobblestones, the faint echoes of children laughing in the streets. The capital was as it always was.

"Morning love." the same familiar voice I had heard for the last three years.

I turn slowly and give a small smile. For once, in my life, I was at a loss to speak. The sounds choked up in the top of my throat and came out as a shaky, nervous "Morning."

He stepped over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, tentatively kissing my neck while I search my mind for hours trying to think of what to say. I nearly had the thing out before he cut me short. "Sleep well?"

"Yes..." my voice trails off. I didn't want to lie to him. It was easy to do with anyone else. With any other person, all you had to do was nod and smile and throw some charisma behind it, and they'd accept it without question. There's a trusting nature in humans that I find repulsive sometimes, how easy people believe in the integrity of others. This was not so with Aang. He had a way of uncovering the truth from me. In all honesty, I had a hard time telling him even the simplest fibs because his innocence made it all but impossible to do without feeling guilty.

"What's wrong?" he asked. There he goes, always with the questions.

"Nothing, tired is all." Which was not a lie.

He cocks his eyebrow to one side, his beady eyes looking straight through me. "Really" he says, more earnest in his voice "What's wrong?"

"I had...a bad dream." Yes, a bad dream that turned into a horrible reality.

"Oh?" he said flopping on the bed, patting for me to join him. "What about?"

I tug into his embrace cautiously. "I was running...running through darkness. There were screams and cries and just kept running. It was black everywhere. I couldn't see where I was going. Everything was covered in a fog. But no matter how far I ran; I could never escape. I felt helpless..."

Throughout that entire explanation, I felt like crying. It was a terrifying experience, having what one trusted and depended on suddenly taken away from you and left alone. It leaves you feeling naked, exposed – weak. It's as if your total world; your entire reality collapsed upon itself. I didn't like the thought, not even mentioning it to Aang.

He casually wraps his arms around my waist. "At least it's over now right?" he said trying to reassure me. "After all, it was only a dream..."

"Only a dream..." I reflected on those words "But it seemed so real..." There was an underlying truth in this, something darker and more sinister. You cringe a little on the inside, like a cold-wind brushing the nape of your neck on a winter's day. The words roll off like an ominous bell-toll.

"Dreams often do seem real, but they are merely the manifestation of our waking reality into our thoughts. Dreams help us achieve a better knowledge of ourselves and our purpose by allowing us to examine our inner conscience where our normal minds will suppress them. Thus, we gain a different perspective of what is around us, but what is inside of us too. That is the path to enlightenment."

I gaze at him in bewilderment at the learned and cosmic wisdom of what he just said. He gives back an expression as equally puzzled, blushing a bit as if he was asking himself "Did those words just come out of my mouth?"

"That's really thoughtful Aang." I said at a loss to actually put a summation of my thoughts on it.

"Is there something that's bothering you Azula?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep inhalation. I was really going to do this. "Aang" I whisper to him softly, "I have something to tell you."

"What about?"

"About us."

A sudden serious nervousness comes to his voice. "What do you mean?"

"Aang, I..." I couldn't bring myself to say it. I get up and rush to window, my hands covered over my eyes pouring tears.

"Azula!" he rushes to my side, faithful and loyal as always. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm – I'm..." my voice is cracking and my entire body trembling.

"Yes? You're what?"

When the phrase finally came out, it came in the form a tiny whisper, barely audible above my own sobbing. "I'm pregnant."

The words sound out like the roll of a cannon; a large explosion then a sudden quiet to bask in the aftermath. He shakes his head a few times and presses it against my collar bone, closing his eyes in contemplation. After a long time he rises again, his eyes a little more lustrous than before. "How do you know?" he asks.

"I stopped haven't had a period in two months." I said exactly "And this morning I woke in a cold-sweat and threw up several times..."

His voice now is just as low now, and he enunciates deliberately, trying to take it all in. "Is it mine?"

"Yes...it's yours."

A sort of grand euphoria overcame the two of us as we watched the sun rise of the spires and rooftops of the city below that morning. We held each other fondly on the balcony, content with each other's presence. We did not know where this would take us, or what the consequences would be; but somehow, as we held each other, we knew, deep down, that everything would work out. For it was a bond between us that transcended merely love or hate, it was a bond that held us with unbreakable chains of spiritual oneness.

The sun rose on a new day.


	12. The Good King

**Alright peeps, another update. Enjoy. ^_^**

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><p>"I don't like it."<p>

The scowl on his face leered over me like a father reprimanding his child. Yet his face betrayed no sense of anger or of malice. He was merely a wall of controlled coolness sitting upon his throne, gazing down at me.

I look the canvas over. His likeness, although slightly exaggerated, stood in bright relief against the national banner in the back ground, staring precisely at the viewer while he held the royal scepter in one hand and a sword that rested on his shoulder on the other. The Leader of the Fire Nation was clad into accouterments of a Roman Emperor of old, dawned in shining black armor and draped with a crimson cape that draped over his left shoulder. All around his visage stood the court below his excellency, looking on with faces of admiration and fear beneath the purple draped platform.

"What do you not like about it sire?" I asked bowing.

"My jaw is much too square. Looks like my face is swollen."

"I gave it an extra touch to enhance your power. I thought it was an improvement from your normal chin."

"Well, change it back." he waved his hands.

I tediously nudge away some of the paint and start tediously correcting the mistake. I look a few times to gauge the correct depth and fill in the places with a few brush strokes. In a few short minutes I show the canvas to him again. The scowl that was on his face disappeared and was replaced by a small smile.

"Much better." he said. "You did an excellent job Senor Mendoza."

I smile. "It's always nice to hear one's work is appreciated."

"Indeed. And amply compensated too." He hands me a few gold coins bearing a cruder rendering of himself on one side with the nation's symbol on the other. These gold coins, I knew, would constitute at least a years salary for any working man. Their rough faces shimmer as I run my thumb over them. I neatly tuck them away in my purse. Where once I was a servant in Portugal, I have become a King myself in this new land, I reflected, and richer than I had ever dreamed.

"Your majesty is most generous."

"A good King is always generous to his loyal follower. After all, that's what keeps them loyal."

"My King seems to be well versed in the art of politics."

"Politics?" he asked an amused. "No, not politics – living. I am the nation, therefore I am politics. I am not well versed on politics, politics are well versed one me. When you are a leader, you must understand, that you will is immovable. To sway, to be fickle; that is to show weakness. And any weakness, when you are a King, can be you're undoing."

He spoke with the aged wisdom of a man of many year but with a charisma that still brimmed with youthful exuberance. "It also" he continued "Requires one to move with the time. A King must be actively aware of his changing environment, otherwise he cannot adapt. Versatility, I mean, is the key to survival. Something my father sorely lacked..."

He paced to the window and looked out into the sun as if in deep contemplation. "Which, in the end, was his undoing. He failed to see the greater potential of what was around him, the prospects of power that lay far out of his reach." he paused, "The dangers that lurked within his very palace."

My hand fidgets a bit as turns to me again. For a moment I swore I could have perceived in his face a feeling of a extreme sadness; a momentary glint of the eyes that testified to some inner burden that was consuming his very soul, only to quickly disappear again beneath his regal facade. "But that is neither here nor there." he said at last. "The past is the past and I am perfectly content for it to stay that way."

"You highness does seem most wise."

It was then that the chamber doors flew open with a resounding clatter. It was quite unusual. Usually a herald would announce if someone requested an audience with his highness. Instead, a dark haired girl who I had never seen before stepped through the door unannounced. She had all the foreboding of a terrible calamity about her. The darkness under her eyes combined with an uncaring glance made her terrifying sight.

"Ah!" the King said standing up. "Lady Mai, my most trusted servant." The King's demeanor changed from a one of serious contemplation to almost a gleeful state.

The Lady approached the King without any formality or reverence. Instead, she practically leaped into the embrace of his arms and the two kissed passionately. I had never known the King to keep mistresses, which is why this display of affection came as such a shock to me when I beheld it. I cleared my throat as I heard her whisper something in his ear. His momentary happiness faded just as soon as it had appeared.

When the lady was finished, she curtly turned and walked out of the room like she had entered it. When the door clanged shut the King began again. "I have some rather unsettling news."

"What kind of news?"

"My worst fear has come to fruition : my sister is with child."

"Whose?"

"The Avatar's."

"The so called 'Master of the Elements'"?

"Yes, the very same. If news of this gets out it will mean...civil war!"

"But you are the rightful King, are you not? Surely an illegitimate heir could have no say-so,"

"It's more than that. His power is spiritual. I have done well to keep him locked away and discovering his potential, but if word gets out that the Avatar has a child who might have a claim to the throne, it might cause people to question this new order I have worked so hard to establish."

"But how? Questioning is not the same as rebelling. Surely you can't expect as much from a person who is still a boy, can you?"

He props himself up on his chair. "There are rumors of a disturbance in the West. Word has reached my ears that a young insurgent has gathered together a group of partisans and dissidents who are aimed and destroying this empire and restore "balance". While they are small, they are of no concern, but if their cause was to gain legitimacy...it could develop into an open revolt that could cause untold devastation."

"What do you plan to do my Lord?"

He sighs a bit and replied in a hallow voice that sounded like that of a man half-dead himself: "The Avatar and my sister have both outlived their usefulness."

"Surely you don't intend to kill your own blood?" My heart ran cold at the thought of the princess's death.

He didn't utter a reply. Instead he stared, his piercing eyes looking straight through me. Finally he looked off to one side and spoke again in a much quieter voice. "No." He looks back at me, "But do not forget, Senor Mendoza, that I can shut my nation to your people, just as easily as I opened it."

I stood for a moment, too terrified to move while the King sat on his sitting stool, his eyes in his hands. I bow to him, and then turn to leave. Before I take two steps I hear his voice behind me. "So you're leaving?"

I slowly turn back to him. "Only for a while my lord. Time to think..."

He made his words sharp and precise as a razor. "Mark my words Mendoza; there will be blood." And with that, I departed, and never looked back.


End file.
